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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29320362">How to Forgive</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/caramel_sins/pseuds/caramel_sins'>caramel_sins</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Banter, Cottagecore, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Constipation, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Friendship, Grief/Mourning, Humor as a defense mechanism, I can't afford therapy so I wrote this instead, I cried writing this so reader be warned, I just really miss my friends, Sad Rose Tico, Slow Burn, Smut, War is hell, War makes strange bedfellows</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 09:55:46</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>22,129</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29320362</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/caramel_sins/pseuds/caramel_sins</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Rose meets the First Order spy on a cold green planet after weeks of sporadic communication. Lonely and suffering, she strikes up a strange relationship with her spy. One that travels down paths she could not quit imagine.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Armitage Hux/Rose Tico</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>79</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>90</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It was an eerily beautiful place. The green cliffs overlooked a rocky sea, the deep blue of it like sapphires and the white foam like creamy pearls rolling to shore. In the distance a tempest brewed, dark angry clouds moving closer and closer at a glacial pace, releasing their contents into the waiting maw of the jeweled ocean. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rose had never seen a planet like this before, never set foot on a world made of precious gems and deadly rocks. It was so vibrantly green, so full of color despite the dreary grey of the sky. She felt as if she could stare at the vibrant shades of this strange place all day and never find herself wanting. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The climate was in a word: damp. Mist and rain hung in the air constantly and the wind picked up the spray of the sea sending its salty particles into the atmosphere. But unlike Ajan Kloss, it was not the hot and sticky kind of damp, instead the air was chilly, the moisture making the breeze icy. It was the kind of cold that went straight to the bone, settling in the marrow threatening to never leave. Rose pulled her insulated raincoat around her as tightly as she could in an attempt to ward off the insidious wind that attempted to pull her into its cold grip. It was a useless endeavor but she felt she had no choice but to try. She was unsure how long she would have to wait. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She had arrived earlier than the appointed hour, too nervous to be tardy. She wanted to be there first, to get her bearings before the spy arrived. It felt like the best course of action, to be overly prepared for any turn of events. Trust was not something easily obtained any longer. Rose, sweet trusting Rose, had become as cold as this strange little planet and as sharp as the rocks. It was for the best, one had to always be ready for the worst. Though they had been in contact for some time now, though they had given valuable information to the Resistance, Rose couldn’t help the niggling feeling of distrust that tickled at the back of her mind. This person was still First Order and high enough up to get the Resistance good intel. It would behoove her to be on her guard. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rose felt the weight of her blaster at her hip, it was both a terrifying feeling and comforting one. It was power in her hand and danger too. She didn’t like weapons. She was sick of them, sick of thinking of them, sick of trying to stop them and resurrecting new ones. She liked being an engineer, she liked tech, she hated using her skill to create agents of violence. The current climate made it necessary. Didn’t mean she couldn’t taste the bitterness of guilt on her tongue. Didn’t mean she liked the feel of violence slung across her trousers. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p><em><span>I don’t sleep for long.</span></em> <em><span>It’s hard, now. </span></em></p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Those words pinged around her head as she stood waiting for the spy, eyes trained on the cloudy horizon. It felt like eons ago when that message had pinged across her holopad screen. </span>
  <em>
    <span>It’s hard, now. </span>
  </em>
  <span>It was such a </span>
  <em>
    <span>human</span>
  </em>
  <span> thing to say. It had made Rose shiver, made her eyes water. She tried to tell herself that the First Order was full of monstrous drones, comically evil villains who reveled in pain. She was such a bad fucking liar and she always called her own bluff.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I understand. </span>
  </em>
  <span>She had answered, fingers flying across the keyboard without a thought. She felt desperate, like she was in a desert and someone had offered her water. She drank it down in one gulp. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>It’s hard to sleep with so much noise. </span>
  </em>
  <span>She continued. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There was a pause and the comm was still for a moment, her words hanging somewhere in the galaxies between them. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>What noise? </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rose would never be able to describe the exact feeling of relief that overcame her in that moment but it was a lot like warm rain in a drought. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>The thoughts in your head that keep you awake. That kind of noise. </span>
  </em>
  <span>She knew it was vague, strange even but it was all the language she had to describe the feelings that swelled inside of her in the darkness of night, in the moments she was forced to be still and sit with her thoughts. Stars, she hated those moments. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Yes, that noise. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Was the spy's simple reply. At least they understood.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was the closest their conversation had come to friendliness. Their usual communications were terse and businesslike. She let the spy set the tone and that’s how they set it. She just followed the leader, as she always did. It was easier that way, simpler. If she just let the current carry her then she wasn't asked to think, wasn’t asked to wade through the deafening noise that filled her mind. She had never thought military life would have suited her, she was bad at taking orders. Now, well, she was a perfect little soldier, too bone-weary to let a little thing like free will get in the way of duty.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The noise in her head was buzzing as she stood in the cold, like a hive of bees, like radio static. Thoughts of running away turned over and over in her mind. It would have been so easy to just never turn back. She knew how to disable the tracking device in her ship with ease. No one knew she was here except Leia, and something inside Rose told her that the general just might let her go. These traitorous thoughts distracted her from the sound of footsteps behind her, kept her ignorant until it was too late. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thorn?” A clipped imperial voice called to her, using her codename. The suddenness of his arrival made her jump She turned quickly, hand reaching for her blaster. She pulled it with a precision she didn’t know she had. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You have to be fucking kidding me.” She intended for her voice to come out angry but it just sounded tired. She looked up at the sky as if to ask the Force or some kind of deity why it had done this to her. What kind of cosmic joke was this? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m not very funny.” The spy replied, dryly. If she wasn’t so disappointed she might have laughed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, you definitely aren’t that.” She sighed and lowered her weapon, returning it to her holster. She marched toward the spy, anger and determination making her steps sure and hard.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Surprised?” He asked as she came closer. She noticed he smelled like juniper, like the color green, like the forest of trees she had walked through to get here. The scent had not soaked into her sweat stained clothes. He seemed to have absorbed it in full, leeching the greenery of its charms. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“To say the least. How goes it, General?” She asked sarcastically. She thought he would frown but his lip twitched a little. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>To say she was surprised to find out their valuable First Order spy was none other than General Hux would be an understatement. She was beyond surprised. She had run right past surprised and swiftly into grim resignation.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So my handler is the sharp toothed little rebel,” he sounded like he was inspecting a new species of rodent. She was shocked he remembered her, though she supposed what she did to him was hard to forget.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“She is, indeed. I’m glad I made an impression last time.” Rose bared her teeth at him and delighted in the way he shifted slightly backwards as if she would do it again. Come to think of it, she just might.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You made more than an impression. I have a little scar to commemorate the momentous meeting.” Hux wiggled his fingers still in his leather gloves despite his lack of uniform. He wore a charcoal grey coat and a hooded sweater underneath, looking closely she could see it was a deep green, so dark it was almost black. It looked cozy, warm, much warmer than her Resistance issued raincoat which felt more like tissue paper than clothing. He looked a bit better out of his uniform, hair not so meticulous. He still resembled the General with the stick up his ass but a tad more casual. Like a shithead on vacation.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nice to know my bite packs a punch.” She said. He looked at her for a long moment before he answered. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Indeed.” He replied with a nod.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you have the intel?” She asked tersely, eager to get on with their conversation. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course. I’m a generous man.” She snorted at that. He gave her a quizzical look.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not the word I would use.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What word would you use?” He asked, his interest clearly piqued.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You don’t want to know.” She assured him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m sure I would.” He persisted, a strange twinkle in his eyes. Curious. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fuckface? Asshole works too.” Rose felt a little thrill as the words left her mouth. This was the bravest thing she had done in awhile. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He looked at her for a moment, brows raised, green eyes sharp. “That’s new.” His voice was steady, dry, not colored by anger or humor. It was a surprising reaction, to say the least. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Is it?” She asked, not quite believing him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He nodded. “Yes. Most compare me to an animal of some sort but you go for a more visceral description. Your use of language is colorful, though I don’t find it to be very clever.” He said, casually as if he were reporting on the weather. He sounded bored but his mouth twitched at the corners again. Interesting.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How about ‘insufferable motherfucker’?” Rose supplied. Hux looked away quickly and Rose thought he might have been hiding a smile but she couldn’t be sure.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Better.” He said with a curt nod of the head. She looked at him for a moment, confused by the way their conversation had progressed. He was the man who had sentenced her to die. She had bit him in a moment of anger and desperation and now they stood trading barbs. War makes strange bedfellows. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Now that I’m done hurling insults at you, could we get on with the purpose of the meeting?” She asked. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course.” He extracted something from his pocket. She could see it was some kind of small electrical unit, wires coming out of it every which way. He knew she was an engineer, knew she was responsible for the Resistance tech, that’s why she was his handler. He had asked for her specifically. Well he’d asked for the lead engineer and that was her. He most likely didn’t even know her name.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“This has the tracking information you need. You will be able to locate the First Order with just a tap of your fingers, once its assembled, of course. I assume you will be able to handle that?.” He handed it to her and she stared at it with unconcealed awe, ignoring his little dig. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Holy shit.” She whispered under breath. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Colorful.” Hux drawled. She looked up at him and saw that his mouth did that little twitchy thing at the corners again, like he wanted to smile but didn’t. She blushed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“My mother would be mortified.” She admitted as she stood up straight again with the tracker in hand.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“At the tech or your use of language?” He asked. He seemed genuinely interested, which was strange. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The language. She liked tech.” He just nodded in reply, face taking on a strange expression. He seemed a little lost in thought. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thank you, Hux. This is valuable.” She said as she slipped the tracking unit in her coat pocket.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know.” He replied. What a fucking insufferable answer.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The customary reply is: you’re welcome.” She stated dryly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I didn’t do this out of the kindness of my heart. Did you speak with General Organa?” He asked. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He had brought it up before in their communiques. Little questions here and there about what would befall him after the war, what he could expect for his service. It all made sense, he was risking life and limb to give them this information and it was not unusual for there to be reciprocation of some sort, assurance that his future was secured. It was a small price to pay for the information they got. At least that had been the consensus. Leia was ready to forgive, to rehabilitate but she wanted to be sure that it would be worth their time and Rose was to be the spy’s advocate in that arena. This was all before they knew who he was, of course. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes. She’s interested but she says I am to use my </span>
  <em>
    <span>discretion.” </span>
  </em>
  <span>She sneered at the last word, almost theatrically like she was in some silly halo drama. It felt good to lord something over him, to have the tables turn in her favor. For a moment she thought about making him kneel before her like she had done not so long ago. She thought better of it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What is that supposed to mean?” He asked, voice going haughty. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Your fate is in the palm of my hands, General.” She extended her hand toward him, palm facing up. She wiggled her fingers dramatically, enjoying the way he leaned away from her outstretched hand as if he feared it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How wonderful. I’m so glad my life is dependent on the whims of a feral cat.” He sneered, lip curling as he bared his own teeth. Who was the feral cat now?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m not feral. I bite those who deserve it.” She clicked her teeth together, punctuating her statement. He rolled his eyes, apparently no longer afraid of her bluster. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Keep telling yourself that.” He replied. Rose sighed heavily and looked upward, as if the heavens would tell her what she needed to say next. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Listen, Hux. I’m not your biggest fan but I happen to be a believer in restorative justice. If you can prove your remorse and work for a better universe perhaps you get to keep your life and freedoms. That is if we win the war.” She conceded. If she’d learned anything thus far it was that nothing was guaranteed. All things could change in an instant. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You will.” Hux stated emphatically. Rose was taken aback by his surety. It felt strange to see a First Order sycophant admit that it was not some invincible behemoth but fallible just like anything else. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Is that so?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“With that tech and my future intel you will. Without me, you do not fare so well.” Of course! Of fucking course he would make it about him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Force, you’re so fucking smug!” She cried, flailing her arms in defeat. He shrugged, unperturbed by her childish display. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“A talent of mine.” He replied dryly. Rose couldn’t believe it. She looked at him, brow-quirked, mouth slightly agape. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I think that was a joke, General.” She told him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His brows shot up, head rocking back in surprise. “I suppose it was.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was strange to find out he had a bit of a sense of humor. It was too human an attribute. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rose cleared her throat, bringing them both back from the strange limbo they had wandered into.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, I better be off. I’ll get this back to base and discuss your future with General Organa.” She patted the tracking unit in her pocket and gave him a half hearted solute. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He bowed his head in acknowledgement. “I’ll be in touch, Thorn.” He replied, using her codename. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s Rose. Rose Tico.” She gave him her name reluctantly but she felt they needed to be on somewhat friendly terms. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Goodbye, Tico.” And with that he turned on his heel and walked away, letting the green forest behind him swallow him whole.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>****</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I have more information. </span>
  </em>
  <span>The communication came in late during her rest cycle, as always. She wasn’t asleep anyway. She was lying back trying to forget the flashes of memory that shot through her mind, trying to silence all that noise. It was a useless task. All she knew was noise now, anyway. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Alright, spill.</span>
  </em>
  <span> She replied. She needed a distraction, this would fit the bill. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>We need to meet in person.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Was his short reply. It surprised her but she was thrilled by the idea of getting new tech. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Same place? </span>
  </em>
  <span>She asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Same place.</span>
  </em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Rose was early again. She didn’t have much of an excuse this time. She knew who the spy was and she was rather confident he would do her no harm. Too much rested on her liking him. Hux was a bastard but he was a smart man and he knew what it took to survive. He was like a cockroach in that way. Tenacious. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rose landed by the coast, settling her ship far enough away from the jutting rocks but not quite in the shelter of the swaying pines. She steeled herself for the harsh cold that would greet her when the pneumatic doors opened.  She slid on her rain jacket over a rusty brown sweater she had pulled from deep in her trunk of belongings. It was from her time on Hays Minor, from before all of this. It was roomy, pooling a little at her waist. It used to fit snug, pressing up against her soft belly. Now it floated away from her warm skin, no longer holding her like an embrace. She told herself it was for the better. She was fitter now than she was in the past, she could run and jump and dive, shoot a blaster, fly a ship, squeeze into tight spaces. She had gained so much since her time on that little ice planet. And she had lost everything in the process. But, hell, now she could run a mile without wheezing! What a fucking triumph. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rose looked out toward the forest, watching as the branches moved in and out like heaving breaths. There was something alluring about the green of it. The leaves shone like emeralds in the scant light that peeked through grey clouds. She imagined plucking them from their branches, turning the jewels between her small fingers. Would they look sophisticated hanging from their ears or would the enchantment fade when they touched her grubby skin?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rose shook herself from her strange fantasy, turning back to her stranger reality. She looked down at the clock on her dashboard and saw that she was still about twenty minutes early so she decided to take a stroll. Something about the terrain here called to her more than any place she had been in a long time. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She emerged from her ship quickly, her small legs moving rapidly as she practically jogged toward the gathering of trees. She darted past the thick trunks of the ancient sentinels around her, stepping through time itself. Everything slowed and she walked through the forest like she walked through a dream, her steps like whispers on the fallen pine needles and leaves. She liked it here, in the forest, in this liminal space. It was calm and quiet and the light filtered through the leaves of the massive trees making everything feel washed in a green haze. The sound of the wind moving through the branches and small creatures snapping twigs in the distance was like an eerie sort of music and it gave her a semblance of peace. It was a quiet sort of noise and it was a close cousin to silence. She needed something like silence. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She found a fallen log, a perfect perch for her to rest on. She sat down and inhaled the smell of the wet dirt and pine needles, letting her eyes close for a minute. She just wanted to feel nothing for a few moments before life caught up with her again. She didn’t really get that anymore. Everything was noise and action and pain and anxiety. There was no stillness, no nothingness. She needed something like nothingness. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>With her eyes closed Rose could hear the babbling of a distant stream and the sound of birds chirping as they sat on their own little perches, calling out to one another. She could also hear heavy footsteps, like leather boots on brambles, crunching through the quiet landscape. So much for silence, so much for nothingness. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>General Hux stomped through the forest, eyes distant and unreadable. His clothes were similar to the ones he wore last time and his hair was equally disheveled. In the sunlight of the forest it looked darker, richer than she had seen it. The copper hue was made bright in the sunlight and the green of his sweater brought out the color of his eyes. She felt an unwelcome thought pop into her head, a noise she wasn’t willing to listen to. She pushed it aside as best as she could but she could hear it in the background. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He spotted her rather quickly, eyebrows jumping in surprise at the sight of her. He seemed like he also wanted to be alone for a bit. Maybe they had both intruded on each other’s silence. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Tico.” His voice was clipped, almost cold.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hux.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re here early.” He said it like it was a sentence to fill the space between them not because he felt the need to voice that particular observation. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So are you.” Rose felt less urgent to break the silence, to crowd the air with noise. It seemed, for once, she had the upper hand. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He nodded. “Right.” There was something odd about his demeanor. He seemed awkward and out of place, not sure where to stand or how. It was a strange sight. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s a beautiful planet.” She tried to clarify, as though it would explain her earliness, her desire for a meditative state. He looked down at his boots, brows furrowed and a frown gracing his full lips.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I suppose it is.” He stated flatly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You don’t sound so sure about that.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He looked up and around him, looking at the trees and the gray sky. Silence stretched out between them as he took in the dappled light, the hazy green, the deep brown warmth of wet earth. He seemed more comfortable in this silence.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Finally Hux’s gaze turned back toward her. For a moment she was startled by the vibrancy of his eyes. It was as if he had soaked in the color from the moss on a nearby rock simply through the intensity of his stare. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hux sighed, shrugging. “I just never thought about it’s beauty. Though now that you mention it, it has its appeal.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He reached out toward the branch of one of the trees, pulling the needles off and crushing them between his fingers, releasing the scent into the air around them. It smelled of him, of the green of his sweater and the beauty of his eyes. She decided she did not like the scent, hated it actually. It wasn’t the truth but she needed to hold onto the fiction for her own sanity. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s blissfully quiet.” She admitted. They sat in silence for a moment listening to nothing at all. It was if the planet held its breath for them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No noise.” He replied with a nod. She looked him in the eye, surprised to see that he was looking back. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“None.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Their words hung in the air between them like the scent of pine needles and damp earth. For a moment they too were suspended in a strange state between hostility and understanding. War made strange bedfellows. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I have information for you.” He broke the silence suddenly, making Rose jump slightly at the sound of his voice. Hux did not look at her. Instead he just reached out for more needles, snapping them between his gloved fingers, releasing the scent of him into the air. The moment felt too much like sympathy, like camaraderie, and Rose hated it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Go ahead.” She prompted. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The First Order is zeroing in on Ajan Kloss. It will be some time before they locate you but you need to be more diligent with protecting information. And your shields, I assume, are old, I’ll see if I can get you some materials for repairs.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She barely heard what he said after his first revelation. If the First Order found the base it would be over for them. They would all be dead. Panic spiked in her, making her body break out in a cold sweat and her pulse flutter in her chest. Images sliced through her like a hot knife through butter. She was only pieces of herself, fragments. She felt as if her soul escaped through the holes in her and she was observing herself from above on this cold, wet, planet with a man she despised. She heard the sounds of the ocean, the brook, the trees snapping. With them she heard the sounds of blasters and explosions, she could feel the heat of them whizzing past her. She could smell burning flesh in her nose and the cries of the wounded. She knew if she lifted her hands they would be shaking.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How do you know where it is?” Her voice was barely a whisper. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Power of deduction.” He stated flatly. She looked up at him, eyes narrowed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How do I know you didn’t tell them yourself?” She must have given it away somewhere. She must have told him somehow and he had whispered it into someone’s ears. It was her fault, she was the weakest link in the chain. And when the First Order came with their fury and destruction it will be as if her hand pulled the trigger. She was the monster who led the lamb to slaughter. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wouldn’t serve me very well, now would it?” He replied. He was right, of course. Rationally he was right but she could not access rationality. She was made only of fear. Like a cornered animal she lashed out.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wrong answer. I was looking for ‘empathy’ not ‘criminal selfishness’. Better luck next time.” She snapped. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Is this a game to you?” He barked back.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A game? A fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>game</span>
  </em>
  <span>? What kind of game was life and death? What kind of fucked up game was war? And if it were a game she was not sure she knew how to play nor that she wanted to know. How could he think that she found this all so trivial? How could the fate of the galaxy be something won or lost? She felt her guilt and fear transform into a deep and hot anger. The low simmering fury inside her ratcheted up to a boil and she glared at him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Is it a game to </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” She shouldn’t have spoken to him like that. She could see the heat of anger flare on his cheeks, staining them a blotchy pink. She knew she had to be kinder, to not incur his wrath, but everything inside of her wanted to lash out. He seemed ready to match her fist for fist.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course not! My life is on the fucking line.” He ground out between clenched teeth. She was incredulous. How could someone be so self obsessed? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And mine isn’t?” She asked, incredulously. What was war but a constant reminder of your own mortality. Every waking moment her life was on the line, dangling on a string waiting to be cut. Every turn she felt the shadow of death behind her nestled against her own. Some days, when the fear gripped her hard enough, she could see it out of the corner of her eye, waiting for her with open arms. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You don’t behave as if it is.” He accused her, lip curled into a vile sneer. She wanted to smack him, to bite his hand again. She recalled a saying her mother used: don’t bite the hand that feeds you. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Gallows humor, General. That’s what they call it.”  She deflected, trying to hide her fury. He didn’t seem deterred. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t see the gallows erected for you.” He spat out but his anger seemed to be at a low simmer. His fight was ebbing and she saw the way his shoulders began to relax, bit by bit. Her anger was fading too. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“They’re there for me too, fuckface, swinging in the wind.” Her tone was grim and sad, despite the bite of her words. Every ounce of fury inside of her disappeared and all that was left was that bone-weariness, that consuming exhaustion she knew so well. All of a sudden she felt as if she could sleep for a hundred years, a thousand if given the chance. Anger could only sustain her for so long.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What happened to the feral beast that bit me not too long ago?” Hux asked, head tilted. He sounded almost sad, like he missed her fury. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“She’s tired. Biting takes a lot out of her.” He blinked at her, head tilted in surprise, his lips twitching at the corners like they had so many times before. And before she could comprehend the baffling look on his face he let out a loud bark of laughter. It was shocking to see, his eyes closed in mirth, a genuine smile on his lips. The unwanted thought that had surfaced earlier came back full force, screaming for attention. She ignored it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I haven’t laughed in a long time.” He admitted. She believed him. She looked away, trying to get rid of the small smile on her lips.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m tired, Hux. I need to go.” She deflected. He nodded in response and his face grew sober. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course.” And with that he turned and began to walk away, leaving her alone to take in the silence for a few minutes longer. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Rose lay in her cot, eyes closed as she tried to block out all the noise in her head. Thoughts, feelings, anxieties pinged about her mind like blaster fire along durasteel walls. If she tried hard enough she could see the laser beam light flash behind her closed eyelids. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The night dragged on around her as she tried to find rest. She could feel time pass with aching slowness, ticking past her endlessly, hauntingly. The empty spaces in her tired mind were filled with memories that spilled out of the small compartment she had designated for them. And in her weakened state they came flooding back through her like water through a broken dam. Her sister’s voice, the smell of burning metal, the coldness of space, the heat of the flame, the cries of the wounded all played like a symphony in her mind. It felt like being haunted by a thousand ghosts at once, all of them trying to tell her what their unfinished business was. She couldn’t hear one voice over another just the steady beat of her own terror. Was this what hell was like? Was this the fate that awaited her? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She desperately tried to think of anything else. She hummed a song she learned as a child that only reminded her of her parents, their bodies lost somewhere in the vastness of space. She recited a poem she had read in school that only reminded her of her first love who was missing in some backwater planet galaxies away. She went through her favorite holodrama’s plot from beginning to end but all she could hear was Paige’s voice making fun of all the over-the-top twist and turns. Everything was tainted. Everything soured under the enormity of her loss. It felt like drowning on dry land.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rose breathed in and out, trying with a deadly determination to silence the emotions that swirled through her. And for a second her mind stilled and she heard nothing but her own steady heartbeat and she felt a tiny inkling of peace before the silence was broken by yet another demanding thought. And instead of thinking of her lost family, of her first love dead on some backwater planet, of blaster fire whizzing past her, she thought of General Hux. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Some strange and alien part of her wondered if he felt like she did. She wondered if he was awake at all hours in this bizarre agony. She hoped so, if not for her own dark satisfaction than for her desire for company in this limbo. She didn’t want to be alone and she wanted so desperately for him to suffer. It seemed a bit like justice. Twisted and malformed justice but justice all the same. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rose got up and went over to the holopad that she used to communicate with Hux. It was like she was sleepwalking, her body moved on its own accord, barely acknowledging her protesting mind. She stood over the darkened screen like some undead ghoul appearing on the mortal plane to warn others of impending doom. She wondered if she was trying to warn herself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was something stupid inside of her wanted to reach out to the former general. She wanted to satisfy her curiosity, to scratch the itch under her skin. She wanted to find out if the guilt ate him alive. Did it feel like the burn of the flame or like the sting of ice? Or was he numb to any feeling at all? She wanted to know </span>
  <em>
    <span>things</span>
  </em>
  <span> about him. To know what made him ache. How strange. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rose stood still for a moment trying to figure out what to say. She had to hide her desire to speak to him. That was obvious. Force knows what he would do with that kind of information. If he had any inkling that she actually </span>
  <em>
    <span>wanted </span>
  </em>
  <span>to talk to him he would surely use that to his advantage. He would read too much into it. She needed to make this seem professional. An idea struck and she began to type. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rose: </span>
  <em>
    <span>Why did we need to meet in person today? You could have sent me that over the holopad. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>It was a good question and one she wanted to know the answer to. It didn’t make sense that he would call her to their meeting place just to talk, that’s what the holopad was for. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hux’s reply came almost instantaneously, like he was waiting for her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hux: </span>
  <em>
    <span>I’m being observed it would be best if we kept our communications to in person meetings. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Seemed reasonable. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>R: </span>
  <em>
    <span>Alright.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>H: </span>
  <em>
    <span>If you want to communicate here keep the conversation casual. No business. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Her chest felt tight as she read his words. Did he know? Did he somehow feel her eagerness to speak to him?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>R: </span>
  <em>
    <span>What would I have to say to you? </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>She knew she was deflecting. She sounded too defensive but she couldn’t help it. Her fingers flew over the keys quicker than she could think to stop them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>H: </span>
  <em>
    <span>I wasn’t suggesting it, just laying the ground rules.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>R: </span>
  <em>
    <span>Fine. That’s reasonable.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>H: </span>
  <em>
    <span>I’m glad to meet your approval, Great Commander.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He was teasing her. General Hux of the First Order was teasing her. It was so strange it made her head spin and yet she didn’t hate the turn of events.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>R: </span>
  <em>
    <span>You better stop with these jokes, you’ll lose your reputation as the most insufferable asshole in the entire galaxy. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>H: </span>
  <em>
    <span>I thought it was: ‘insufferable motherfucker.’</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>She laughed. She really and truly laughed at his silly little joke. It wasn’t just a huff of breath through her nose but a head-thrown-back-in-delight kind of laugh.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>R: </span>
  <em>
    <span>I retain creative license. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>H: </span>
  <em>
    <span>You do. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>R: </span>
  <em>
    <span>Thank you, oh Insufferable Motherfucker. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>H: </span>
  <em>
    <span>Do you think I should make it a new rank in the First Order. Perhaps Supreme Motherfucker?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>She laughed again, harder this time. He was getting too good at this. Part of her hated him for it. The other part...she didn’t want to think about that right now. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>R: </span>
  <em>
    <span>Another joke. Should I expect to see your stand-up routine on Crousant? </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>H: </span>
  <em>
    <span>I need more material. Build up my confidence a bit.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>R: </span>
  <em>
    <span>Alright, clown. You work on that while I get some sleep. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>H: </span>
  <em>
    <span>I hope you get some silence.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>R: </span>
  <em>
    <span>You too. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Rose stood in the middle of her room, holopad in hand, and for the first time in a while she heard nothing but her own breathing and the shifting of leaves against her window. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Two weeks later he had more intel. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rose arrived even earlier than usual, trying to find her silence. She went to the little brook in the forest, this time. It was a lovely clear little thing with brown and grey rocks, fish and amphibious life forms she did not have names for. A small furry creature drank from it, big brown eyes watching her with more curiosity than cautiousness. There were not a lot of predators on this planet so the animals were not so easily frightened. Rose liked that. There was something nice about knowing there was a place where fear had not touched every life form.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There was a large rock beside the brook, a perfect place to sit. She climbed on top of it and sat down, stretching her legs out in front of her. She stared down at the dark brown trousers she wore, noticing little stains along the fabric. An oily spot on the knee must have been from some engine grease, a black mark on her right thigh was some ink, various other stains were undefinable. She sighed as she rubbed at the spot on her knee, wishing she looked a bit nicer. She didn’t want to examine why she wanted that, why she wanted to look good. It was one of the many noises in her head she was trying desperately to ignore. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She looked up through the trees toward the grey sky. Little bits of blue peaked out in between the clouds and the sun tried desperately to shine. It was somewhat successful. Little streams of light shone through and danced on the surface of the brook. She lay down, pressing her back into the cool stone and stared at the mosaic of blue, green and grey that made up the canopy of the forest. She only heard the sound of the brook and the wind through the leaves. The noises in her mind were quiet as she listened.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>****</span>
</p>
<p>Rose woke to a hand on her shoulder. She felt the gentle push and pull of their grip as they shook her awake. It felt like the smooth rocking of a boat on a calm sea. It was nice. She heard her name as well but her mind was too blank to do much with it.</p>
<p>“Tico, are you alright?” She recognized the voice and she let her eyes open slowly. She stared up into General Hux’s face, his pale features framed by the halo of his flame colored hair as he looked down at her frowning. His eyes were so green, like moss on a rock.</p>
<p>“Well isn’t it the First Order’s biggest clown.” She croaked as she sat up. He let go of her arm and stepped back, watching her warily.</p>
<p>“Well I know you can’t be too bad off if you find it in you to insult me.” He quipped. Another joke, he was getting good at that.</p>
<p>“I could be dying and I’d still insult you.” She replied flatly, tone as dry as Tatooine. </p>
<p>“I wouldn’t doubt it.” He said with a chuckle. She looked up sharply, trying to catch the last bits of his smile. Why did she want to do that?</p>
<p>“I fell asleep. No need to get your panties in a twist.” She grumbled. Her internal confusion helped her find the surliness she needed to go on with this interaction. </p>
<p>“I assure you, my panties are fine.” He replied as he tugged on the end of his sweater, trying to right the hem. </p>
<p>“I’m sure they are. What new information do you have for me?” She asked, trying to move the conversation along.</p>
<p>“I have a question first.” That surprised her. What could he have a question about.</p>
<p>“A question?” </p>
<p>“Yes. That’s what I said. Are you sure you’re alright?” He sounded annoyed and strangely bashful. He was not used to asking questions.</p>
<p>“I’m fine. I’m just surprised.” </p>
<p>“Sorry to catch you off guard. May I ask my question?” He tried again. </p>
<p>“Go right ahead.” She said with a sweep of the arm. He nodded and swallowed. He seemed nervous. It was very, very odd. </p>
<p>“What is restorative justice, per say?” Hux asked. That was not what Rose expected.</p>
<p>“What the hell made you ask that?” </p>
<p>“You mentioned it upon our first meeting and I was curious.” She remembered now. That first meeting felt so long ago, the memory of it was hidden by so many other things. </p>
<p>“Fine. It’s complicated but I’ll try to make it simple.” She sat up a little straighter and prepared to give a lesson.</p>
<p>“I can handle complication.” He replied petulantly. She gave him a dead eyed stare, trying to convey her contempt for such behavior. He seemed a little ashamed at his tone.</p>
<p>“Sure you can. For now I would like to explain this in the simplest terms. Is that okay with you, Supreme Insufferable Motherfucker?” She gave a small mock bow that earned her a huff of laughter. She was strangely good at making him laugh.</p>
<p>“You can call me Hux for short, if you prefer.” He replied and it was her turn to chuckle. </p>
<p>“Hux it is.” She said with a smile. He returned it weakly, the camaraderie between them feeling strange and fragile. She soldiered on with her lesson, trying to ignore the shift in the air. </p>
<p>“So say someone commits a series of heinous crimes but decides midway through his campaign of fascistic evil to help the side of Light and justice.” </p>
<p>He rolled his eyes at her dramatic interpretation of events. “Yes, let’s start off in that very plausible hypothetical.” He sighed. She grinned.</p>
<p>“Yes, let’s! So we have this evil, horrible, terrible guy make one good decision.” Rose stared at Hux pointedly, he just glared back impatiently. </p>
<p>Rose continued. “Some people see this as a step in the right direction. He continues to do little things to prove that he isn’t a total lost cause who is barely good enough to push nerf shit around let alone be let back into polite society. The community, in their infinite wisdom, conditionally allows him back into the fold with the expectation that he continues to do the introspective and difficult work of rehabilitation.” He looked confused.</p>
<p>“I’m not sure I understand.” He said. </p>
<p>“Aren’t you glad I started simple?” Now it was her turn to be smug. She understood why he liked it so much.</p>
<p>“I am.” He conceded. She was surprised by this rare show of humility. Though when she thought about it he seemed rather adept at self deprecation. Maybe humility was not far behind that. </p>
<p>“Accountability. That’s important. You must look your crimes, the bad that you’ve done, in the eye and claim it as yours.” He made a face.</p>
<p>“That sounds unpleasant.” He replied as he looked down at his hands. She noticed for the first time he wore no gloves, his long elegant fingers were bare. She studied them for a moment noting the way they resembled an artist's hands, sturdy but elegant. </p>
<p>“None of this is easy.” She told him. Hux sighed and ran his hands through his hair pushing the disobedient strands away from his forehead to little effect. They fell back in place after only a moment of compliance.</p>
<p>“I suppose it wouldn’t be.” He looked up at the trees, eyes searching for something. Rose imagined it was deliverance but she could not be sure.</p>
<p>“Guilt makes it difficult.” Rose explained. He let out a dry chuckle. </p>
<p>“Guilt makes everything difficult.” She felt the pain in his voice and it pierced her. In her dances with Death guilt was always the music that played. She heard it always and it made her ache for silence in ways she did not know she could. But she knew it was useful. That some aches were worth having.</p>
<p>“You’re not wrong. But it’s an important first step.” She admitted. He nodded.</p>
<p>“What else?” He pressed on. She was eager to continue as well. These questions were becoming too intimate. She felt some kind of sympathy for him and she wished she didn’t. </p>
<p>“After you are accountable you must begin to repair the relationship with the community, to atone. But the community decides your fate, they take that atonement and they judge it and discuss it.” She wondered how all of this would change in the face of <em> him </em>. General Armitage Hux was no First Order lacky, he was the pretty face of the regime. Could anyone ever find him worthy of restoration? Or would they all leave him to rot? </p>
<p>“So it’s not just your hands that my life rests in?” He asked. </p>
<p>“It never was just my hands.” She had not lied when she told him it was her that made the decisions but she exaggerated. She wanted him to fear her, to respect her. She knew now it was a mistake to give him that kind of hope.</p>
<p>“I would have preferred it that way.” She was taken aback by his answer. Did he think she was more sympathetic than most? Did she give the impression that she was a fair ruler over him? She did not think so. Perhaps he just wanted the devil he knew.</p>
<p>“Well that’s not how it works, I’m just the foot in the door. Without me you don’t have this path as an option.” She wanted to dispel all his misconceptions. She needed to establish their boundaries if not for him, for herself. She needed to know where they stood. </p>
<p>“Okay.” He seemed to accept the information though his voice had gone quiet and contemplative. She supposed it was a lot of information. </p>
<p>“Does this answer your question?” </p>
<p>He nodded. “For now.”</p>
<p>“What’s the intel?” She asked, steering the conversation away from forgiveness. She needed her end of the deal to be fulfilled after all. </p>
<p>“Kylo Ren has gone missing and the First Order is scrambling for a leader.” She stared blankly at him. It wasn’t that useful. Knowing they were unstable was nice but it offered them no real advantage. It was more palace intrigue than battle plan.</p>
<p>“What about you?” She had always assumed Hux would lead the First Order someday. It seemed like Hux believed that too. </p>
<p>“I’m no longer an option.” He replied bitterly. </p>
<p>“Why is that?”</p>
<p>“I have been usurped.” He looked more disappointed than angry like a child who lost a game of dejarik. She understood his motives now. </p>
<p>“So that’s why you’ve turned to us. It’s becoming very clear now.”  Of course he would turn to the Resistance when he was betrayed. He was just a spiteful little boy, after all. </p>
<p>“I turned to you because I am weak.” He spat back, anger making his cheeks red and eyes bright. He looked a bit like he did in all those fiery speeches, the rising flame of the First Order reflected in the green of his irises. </p>
<p>“How so?”</p>
<p>He looked up toward the canopy of trees, face impassive as he searched for what to say. Or perhaps he wondered if he should say anything at all. There was such uncertainty in the way he stood, in the slight stoop of his shoulders. He straightened a bit, seeming to come back to himself but he still avoided her gaze.</p>
<p>Hux cleared his throat, eyes trained on his hands. “Guilt. It haunts me.” His voice was steady and low, the words coming out in a rush like he wanted to expel them as quickly as possible. </p>
<p>The answer shocked her. Guilt made him turn? What kind? It was surprising to know he felt it. It was not surprising to find out he did not see the power in it.</p>
<p>“That’s not a weakness, you know.” She tried to explain.</p>
<p>He huffed a bitter laugh. “I beg to differ.” </p>
<p>She shook her head as she tried to catch his eye again. “It means you have empathy. Empathy is good.” She felt like she was instructing a child. Perhaps that’s what he was when it came to kindness, a babe lost in the wood.</p>
<p>“I wish I didn’t have it. I feel like shit.” He whined a little. It was funny. She laughed. </p>
<p>“It comes with the territory.” </p>
<p>He looked up at her and for a long moment he just stared, searched her with his beautiful moss green eyes. She felt heat creep along her skin as she stood under his examination, too weak to turn away.</p>
<p>“Do you feel it? Guilt?” He asked in a voice barely above a whisper. </p>
<p>“Often. All the time. I can’t sleep.” Her voice was hoarse with emotion and she could not look at him. Instead she watched the water of the brook pass over the rocks and imagined that every horrible memory that she harbored was washed away with the motion. It didn’t work. </p>
<p>“What do you have to feel guilty about?” He asked her, his voice full of doubt. She didn’t like the way the conversation had turned. She stood abruptly, straightening her jacket as she prepared to leave. </p>
<p>“Plenty. I need to go.” She announced. His brows shot up.</p>
<p>“Really?” </p>
<p>“I want to go.” She admitted. He smiled a little and nodded.</p>
<p>“Too many questions?” He asked. </p>
<p>“Yes.”</p>
<p>He nodded again as he made his way toward her. She felt something like fear prickle on the outside of her senses. But she did not back away. She felt something like anticipation as well. </p>
<p>“Alright. I’ll leave. Meet me here next week. I have more questions.” He sounded like the General then, giving the commands. That would not do.</p>
<p>“Only if you have more information.”</p>
<p>“I will.” He replied, cold surety coloring his words. </p>
<p> And with that Rose walked away first, leaving Hux to have his moment of silence. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Things are getting speecy spicy</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Rose turned in her bed for the thousandth time in the middle of what was supposed to be her sleep cycle. She was beginning to get angry, frustrated, that kind of futile rage that came when all you wanted to do was sleep but your body refused to let you slip into oblivion. It probably made the issue worse but she couldn’t help it. It welled up inside her and it took everything not to turn over into her pillow and scream.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A shrill ping shattered the silence in her room, making her jump. The screen of her holopad lit up like a supernova, flooding the cabin with eerie blue light. She pulled herself from her bed, body screaming to return, mind: otherwise occupied. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She looked down and saw Hux’s code name light up the screen. She scrambled to open the message, eager to read his missive. She didn’t like how excited she felt. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hux: </span>
  <em>
    <span>I need answers.</span>
  </em>
  <span> She huffed a little laugh at that. Didn’t they all. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rose: </span>
  <em>
    <span>It’s late.</span>
  </em>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>That’s right, Rose, play hard to get.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>H: </span>
  <em>
    <span>You weren’t asleep and you won’t sleep for some time. I know you</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Rose did not appreciate the familiarity in his reply. She also didn’t appreciate the fact that he was right. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>R: </span>
  <em>
    <span>You’re being presumptuous.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>H: </span>
  <em>
    <span>Not the worst of my crimes.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rose laughed at that, shaking her head as her fingers flew over the keys. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>R: </span>
  <em>
    <span>Most definitely.</span>
  </em>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>H: </span>
  <em>
    <span>I have more questions for you.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>R: </span>
  <em>
    <span>Fire at will.</span>
  </em>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>H: </span>
  <em>
    <span>These questions aren’t weapons. They won’t hurt you. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He was so naive. Of course they could hurt. Every interaction had the potential for pain, one just needed the right words in the right order. She could think of a few questions that would cause her to perish. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>R: </span>
  <em>
    <span>I’ll be the judge of that.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>H: </span>
  <em>
    <span>You’re from Hays Minor, aren’t you? </span>
  </em>
  <span>That one hurt. She felt the ache of it spread through her chest. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>R: </span>
  <em>
    <span>Yes. How did you know? </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>H: </span>
  <em>
    <span>It was a guess</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>R: </span>
  <em>
    <span>Good guess</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>For a beat there was no reply. The truth hung in the air between them. Star systems apart but somehow this knowledge lodged itself directly in the middle. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>H: </span>
  <em>
    <span>I’m sorry</span>
  </em>
  <span>. That was all that he said. No explanation, no excuses, just two words with perfect punctuation. She didn’t know how to handle it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>R: </span>
  <em>
    <span>Are you? </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Another beat. Silence between them, truth in that air. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>H: </span>
  <em>
    <span>Shockingly, yes. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rose felt something like anger settle in the pit of her stomach but she wasn’t so sure where it was directed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>R: </span>
  <em>
    <span>I’m not going to absolve you, if that’s what you’re looking for. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>H: </span>
  <em>
    <span>I didn’t have that expectation. Anyways, it’s not up to just you.</span>
  </em>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her brows jumped up in surprise. That answer was shockingly emotionally mature.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>R: </span>
  <em>
    <span>I know that. I’m glad you know that.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>H: </span>
  <em>
    <span>I’m learning. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He was right, he was. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>R: </span>
  <em>
    <span>Good. Keep doing that. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>H: </span>
  <em>
    <span>I’ll try. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She sat with his words from a moment, not sure where she should turn. She wanted, inexplicably, to talk to him some more. Force help her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>R: </span>
  <em>
    <span>Is this all you wanted? Is this what you woke me up to ask?</span>
  </em>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>H: </span>
  <em>
    <span>I didn’t wake you up. Stop lying. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>R: </span>
  <em>
    <span>How do you know that?</span>
  </em>
  <span> If she was talking to him it would have come out terse, a little annoyed. She hoped her tone was apparent in her response. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>H: </span>
  <em>
    <span>I know you. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Did he? Something about that scared her more than anything else in the galaxy. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>R: </span>
  <em>
    <span>Not in the slightest.</span>
  </em>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>H: </span>
  <em>
    <span>We are two sides of the same coin. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Were they? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>R: </span>
  <em>
    <span>Stop insulting me.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>H: </span>
  <em>
    <span>No. I like it too much when you’re angry. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Was that flirty? Was Hux flirting? Was that what all of this was, bizarre First Order foreplay? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>R: </span>
  <em>
    <span>You must like me a lot right now. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>H: </span>
  <em>
    <span>I do. </span>
  </em>
  <span>This was flirting! He was fucking flirting! And she liked it! Force help her. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>R: </span>
  <em>
    <span>What is this? What are we doing? </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>H: </span>
  <em>
    <span>I don’t rightly know. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Liar! He knew! He fucking knew! He had to. Didn’t he?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>R: </span>
  <em>
    <span>Well, figure it out before we meet again. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>H: </span>
  <em>
    <span>It’s a two way street. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>R: </span>
  <em>
    <span>You’re not wrong. </span>
  </em>
  <span>She could be humble when she needed to be even though it hurt to admit it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>H: </span>
  <em>
    <span>Can I see you soon? </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yes. Please, Force, yes. She wanted to see him so bad. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>R: </span>
  <em>
    <span>Tomorrow.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A beat. Her heart was in her throat. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>H: </span>
  <em>
    <span>It doesn’t give us a lot of time. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>R: </span>
  <em>
    <span>I know. </span>
  </em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It was raining hard when Rose arrived on the woodland planet. All the jewels and gemstones that colored this strange world were hidden behind the haze of a mighty downpour. Great sheets of water fell from dark grey clouds, thunder rolled through the atmosphere like the grumblings of ancient gods. The mist made the air frigid and the rain was icy. It looked foreboding and yet she knew nothing could stop her from leaving that ship and going to find him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rose couldn’t be sure when the turn happened. In the course of their holopad conversation there was no doubt that a shift occurred. The tenor of their conversation had abruptly changed and they had traveled down a path that neither of them would have expected. But Rose knew the turn happened sometime before. These inklings of feelings, these complications, had risen up inside of her well before she sat in front of that glowing screen and felt the heat of his words wash over her. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her holopad pinged. She jumped a little at the sound before she picked it up. It was him. He just sent coordinates, a meeting place. She pulled up a map of the planet and found where he wanted them to meet. It was in the middle of the forest so she would have to walk. She cursed him. Even in this he was difficult. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rose drove the ship closer to the edge of the forest so she would not have to walk unprotected for long. She looked down at her nice clean clothes and laughed a little. So much for sprucing up. She would be soaked by the time she arrived at their meeting point and all her effort would be for not. Best laid plans for mice of men. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She picked up the thick wool cardigan she brought and the raincoat she usually wore to such meetings and dawned them with little ceremony. She wrapped herself up tight and steeled herself for the frigid air that was surely waiting to greet her. As she stepped out she realized no amount of preparation would have made the iciness of the atmosphere outside easier to bear. The rain felt like shards of glass hitting her skin and the chill found every unprotected inch of her form and shot through it straight to the very marrow of her bones. Her hands went numb almost immediately and she stuffed them in her pockets in a futile attempt to keep them warm.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was not a short trek to their meeting spot, but a long and winding one through the dense forest. The canopy of trees shielded her from the brunt of the storm though plenty of cold droplets made it through the leaves to splash along her moving body. The fog made it hard to see too far in front of her but her map helped her stick to the path, and soon she could make out the outline of a small building. She approached quickly, eager to find shelter there. As the mist cleared she saw him, standing under the archway of what must have once been a door. He looked out at the forest, not seeing her. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She observed him. He wore the bottle green sweater she had come accustomed to seeing him in during these meetings of theirs. His hair was disheveled and damp from the downpour and his black raincoat hung on him like a heavy cloak. He looked foreboding, dangerous, and so alluring it made her want to scream in agony. He had no right to look that nice while she looked like a drowned rat. Well, he looked a bit like one too. But a nice drowned rat, a handsome one. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hux’s face changed when he saw her, a softness fell over his features. The look made her ache. He ran out into the rain not caring that it fell on his unprotected head. He reached her quickly and grabbed her arm, pulling her along to the ruin with bruising force. He said nothing, just led her like a child, like a lamb to the slaughter. And she was so happy to die. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It happened so quickly. No sooner did they enter the shelter of the ruin before his mouth found hers. It was electric. The searing kiss that he pressed to her lips sent sparks along her body. She pulled him close, yanking painfully at the hairs at the nape of his neck. All she felt for a moment was heat, painful and beautiful heat. His lips were a flame against hers, his tongue a hot coal. She swallowed the warmth he gave, like scalding tea down a sore throat. She needed this like medicine. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She gasped as they broke apart, saying nothing before she dove back in. Their passion made them sloppy, teeth gnashing, lips bruised. It felt like an almost violent act, like a fist fight but with teeth and tongues. Each rough kiss, a blow to their sanity. It felt so exhilarating and frightening. She understood, now, why people fought. Sometimes passion took a hold of you and all you could do was give in. She was so happy to give in. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hux moved her toward something, solid and low, and placed her on it with what felt like practiced ease. A small part of her wondered if he was used to moments like this, used to quick little sparks of passion. Were all First Order affairs up against walls or on conference tables? Did everything have to be efficient, even a good fuck? But the way he held her didn't feel like a matter of efficiency, it felt urgent, desperate, like he needed her more than air in his lungs.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His hands grabbed at her hips, squeezing the flesh there, kneading bruises into her skin through the weave of her thick trousers. It felt appropriate that his lust would leave a mark. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The surface she sat on made their height difference easier to navigate. He didn’t have to bend so far to capture her lips and she needn’t reach too high to bury her hands in the silkiness of his wet copper hair. His lips moved from her gasping mouth to the flushed skin of her neck, biting along the smooth column. He licked at a mole on the left side, nibbled on a freckle under her chin. He mapped all of her little imperfections with a desperate affection. She was overwhelmed by it, by him. Her senses were consumed by every inch of him. She smelled the earthy pine of him, she felt the heat of his skin, saw his lithe body bent over hers, heard the gasps of his breath. She could die of this, pulled under the rushing water of his need, of her own.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Before she suffocated in his attention she felt his hands move along her body toward the clasp of her trousers. She heard the faint clink of the buttons being undone and then she felt the tug as he pulled her pants and underwear down the expanse of her legs. She was bare from the waist down, exposed to the cold air but made warm by his presence. He stopped and pulled away to look at her. She was trapped under his gaze, suspended in the green of his eyes. He was so beautiful it made her sick, made her want to scream and cry and carry on. She wanted so much it made her furious. She wanted so many stupid and ridiculous things but she would settle for this moment, for the potential of pleasure, for the scant intimacy she was given, for the warmth of his touch.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Carefully he leaned forward, lips brushing hers with a gentle softness. She hated it. She lunged forward, capturing his lips with wild ferocity. She was a feral little cat, after all. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hux followed her lead, slipping his hand between her soft thighs and stroking through the center of her, collecting the slick that pooled there. She threw her head back and cried out, unable to hold a single noise inside her, not really wanting to. He worked her with unparalleled precision, fingers deftly dancing across her molten flesh. Each flick of his digits drew whimpers and moans from her lips. He whispered little things in her ear, encouragement, dirty compliments about how beautiful she was, how wet she was. It made her wild, it made her twist and turn and claw at him. Sweet agony danced across her skin as she moved closer and closer toward ecstasy. Everything around her felt as if it had gone still, waiting with anticipation for her to drop over the edge. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rose came with a deep and almost mournful moan. She shattered into a thousand pieces, legs shaking and hands fisted in Hux’s sweater, eyes screwed shut. She heard him speak to her, whispering soft endearments into the warmth of her shoulder. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Beautiful. Incredible. Lovely. Mine. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rose moved swiftly, like the feral little cat she was. She pulled at the fastening of his trousers, undoing the clasps and setting his erection free. She noted how well proportioned he was, how nice and red and hard and pale his cock looked in the dim light of the shelter. She didn’t really care for looks though, didn’t really care for cocks all that much except when they were buried deep inside her. This one would go deep, deep enough to obliterate all thought. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her mind was one track and she lay back on her perch, which she now realized was some kind of table, and took that red and hard and pale cock and slipped it between her folds before taking him in on a long drawn out moan. Hux panted above her, hand pressed against the table to stop her movements.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re going to kill me.” He ground out between clenched teeth.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Now there’s an idea.” She replied sarcastically, though her intentions were belied by her breathy tone. She wanted to hit him for giving her this much pleasure. He should be punished for making her like him so much. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t lie to me, Rose. You want me alive and well.” He seemed to be getting his bearings as he slowly released some of the tension in his body. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What for?” She asked, a challenge sparking in her eyes. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“For this.” And he plunged into her with a sharp thrust of his hips making her cry out in pleasure. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Touché.” She moaned as he fucked her with wild abandon. He was sloppy, passion making his rhythm sporadic and almost punishing. She loved it. Loved every second of it. Her legs wrapped around his hips, heels digging into the small divots above his ass. She lifted a hand up behind her, grabbing the edge of the table for dear life. He fucked her harder still, her body scraping against the material of the table, her back arching off the surface as she screamed his name. She felt pleasure like a whip crack through her as she came, barely aware of the beat of the rain outside, her mind and body trapped in a blissful haze. She could feel him come, feel the heat of it inside her, the drip of it. She felt the intimacy there too, felt it in the way he whispered her name, in the way his long fingers gently whipped away a stray tear. It felt too much like connection, like sympathy between friends.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>This was violence but it was also tenderness and she resented the way he kissed her gently afterwards. She resented the way she fell into him with equal tenderness. She resented the way that everything was silent, that she felt no guilt or remorse. She resented the way she didn’t hate this at all. She resented how much she wanted to do it again and again and again. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“May I ask you a question?” Hux’s voice came out a soft rumble to Rose’s ears. Her head was cushioned on his chest as she regained her senses after a particularly enthusiastic fuck.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It had only been a week since they started and they could not stop. Every chance they could get away, every opportunity they had to sneak off with each other, they did. If it were a different time and they were different people they might have called this an affair. It wasn’t, they weren’t, and they didn’t. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What’s it with you and questions?” She grumbled, burrowing herself into his side, avoiding his questioning look. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Humor me.” He pushed her away, slightly, making her look up into his eyes. She didn’t like looking into his eyes. They were too sharp, too beautiful, they saw things she wanted to keep hidden. They reminded her of her many deficiencies.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I do all the time. What do you think that was about?” She gestured with a dismissive finger between them. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Humor was a good shield and she liked to hide behind it as often as she could. It had the added benefit of making him laugh. When he laughed it took control of his whole body. He shook with the force of it and his face softened beautifully before her. It was like watching a flower bloom in the dead of night, rare and lovely. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re a selfish lover. Don’t try to claim altruism here.” He was right, she was. She took from him each time and he gave and gave. He never seemed to be able to get enough of her, of the way she expressed her pleasure. Every time they met he took his time with her, drawing out each and every cry from her lips. He only took when he was satisfied that she was a shivering mess, barely able to breathe let alone give back. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How is it my fault that you are only generous when you’re fucking?” She teased. He grinned a little and looked away from her. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Colorful.” He replied. Was this an inside joke? A teasing rhythm between friends? She did not dwell on that thought. She just chuckled a little and burrowed further into the warmth of his skin. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hmm. What’s the question?” She asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why do you feel guilty? What could you possibly feel guilty about?” She stilled. She didn’t like where this was going. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s two questions.” She replied flatly. She knew this would not deter him but she tried anyway. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Rose.” His voice was low and warning. She looked up at him and saw the determined glint in his eyes. She shuttered a little. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hux.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why are you being evasive?” He asked, concern creasing his brow. She didn’t like seeing that.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re up to three. Do you want to quit while you’re ahead?” She felt as if she were dodging blaster fire, afraid one would graze her. She wasn’t so sure one hadn’t. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You can’t joke your way out of everything, Tico. Sometimes you have to face reality.” That one hit. It hurt too. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Must I?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes.” His tone brooked no argument. She was trapped now, cornered by the glint of his green eyes. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“This wasn’t supposed to be about me. This was supposed to be about you. About your path to forgiveness.”  She whined. She felt a bit childish whining like that but she couldn’t help it. Why was she the one so exposed when he was the one who needed to grow? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“This, my love, wasn’t supposed to be at all.” He gestured between them, finger dancing along her bare breast. She shivered a little and smiled. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m not referring to the nature of our relationship.” She informed him, though she thought it might be an easier topic of conversation.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“When will you?” He asked. She took it back, that wasn’t easier, it was just a different kind of difficult. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Never,” she admitted. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I think you must, eventually.” Hux replied but he did not look at her, just stared at the ceiling, mapping the vines that had made their way into the cracks of the ruin around them. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Have you?” She asked, her curiosity piqued. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes. But I don’t believe you’ll like the answer.” His voice was soft, like he intended to whisper but had decided against it as the words tumbled form his mouth. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Give it to me anyway.” She wanted to hear it. Something inside her wanted to feel affirmed, to know his desire for her even if she didn’t want to admit her desire for him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I asked for you, you know. When I contacted the Resistance, I asked for you.” He still wasn’t looking at her as he spoke. She didn’t mind. It made it easier for her to examine his face without the uncomfortable feeling of his eyes on hers.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know. You wanted to talk to an engineer.” She remembered it well. General Organa had come to her with whispered words. </span>
  <em>
    <span>This spy wants to speak to an engineer, perhaps peer to peer</span>
  </em>
  <span>. It seemed logical enough. He had brought her tech, after all. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Is that what she told you?” Hux looked surprised. His question sent Rose’s mind reeling.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Should she have told me something else?” She asked. He shook his head with a small smile. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No. But I didn’t ask for an engineer. I asked for you, Rose Tico.” Something about his answer sent a flood of warmth through her body. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why?” She asked. It wasn’t like they had a previous relationship or anything outside the bite she gave him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I liked you.” He replied with a shrug. She sat up and looked at him, shock taking over the features of her face. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re insane.” She told him. He was, that was the only explanation. What kind of man would like a woman who bit him? What kind of woman would fall into bed with a man who ordered her execution? Maybe he was not the only party who suffered from an addled mind.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Perhaps. But it doesn’t change the fact that I liked you. I like you.” His face grew earnest and the warmth in her grew more. She liked him. She really liked him but she couldn’t admit it. She wouldn’t admit it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t bite the hand that feeds you.” She said to no one in particular as she settled down alongside him, once again. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Was that for my benefit or yours?” He asked. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Just a general aphorism that we needed to be reminded of.” They needed to remember who they were, the delicate path they traveled. They were two souls on a tightrope that shouldn’t lean too far to one side or the other. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, you bit the hand and though it angered me I couldn’t help but admire your tenacity. Your fight, Rose, I like your fight.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span> She didn’t expect the compliment. She thought he would say something about the beauty of her eyes, the loveliness of her face, maybe something a little crass like he liked her big tits (he wouldn’t have worded it like that, he was too much of a </span>
  <em>
    <span>gentleman</span>
  </em>
  <span>). Instead he found something inside her alluring, that had made him take notice. Too bad that part of her had died out a long time ago.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m tired of fighting.” She admitted.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And we are back to the beginning. Is this why you feel so guilty?” He asked. She whipped her head around to glare at him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Force, you’re good.” She told him angrily. He smiled down at her and chuckled. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Never underestimate my mind for strategy.” He tapped his temple triumphantly. She huffed in an attempt to cover the laugh that threatened to bubble up. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fuck the First Order.” She grumbled. He laughed at that and she couldn’t help grin in response.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Indeed.” He replied with a nod. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rose looked up at him, eyes scanning his face. She never imagined in her wildest dreams that she would be in the position that she was in now. Never would she have thought she would welcome Hux’s touch. Never would she have imagined that she would make him laugh. Never would she have imagined that he would have softened the way he has. It was amazing that he had turned so introspective, so willing to change. She owed it to the work that he had done thus far. She needed to be honest if she expected honesty back. Fuck, she hated this. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hux, I’m so tired. I’m tired all the fucking time. But I can’t be tired. I can’t stop fighting. I can’t fall into this rushing wave of apathy that threatens to take a hold of me. Some days I’m so tired that I don’t care who wins or loses. I just want it all to end.” Her voice cracked and she could feel the sting in her nose that heralded tears in her eyes. She looked up at the ceiling trying to stop the inevitable.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“This is why you feel guilty?” He asked softly as he ran a hand up and down her bare arm in soft encouragement. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes.” She whispered, letting the tears finally roll down her cheek. He whipped them away gently. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“This is normal, you know. This feeling.” He replied. She shook her head.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I shouldn’t want to be normal. I should want to be fearless. Paige was fearless.” She wanted to be a warrior, tough and strong, made of durasteel. She was none of those things. She was a weak little girl who was in over her head, who deep down didn’t want to be anything she claimed. A tadpole drowning in a puddle too big for her. A tadpole who never really wanted to be a frog.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And the worst part, Hux, the worst fucking part, is I don’t even want to be fearless. I don’t want to be brave anymore. I’m so tired of all of this nerfshit. I just want to be normal. I want the most dangerous thing that I do in a day is drink caf after noon. I want my biggest worry to be which lumpy sweater I wear to work in the morning. That’s it. But that was taken away from me. For as long as I live my life will never be so simple. There will always be darkness, never just light.” </span>
  <em>
    <span>You took that away from me</span>
  </em>
  <span>, was left unsaid but it still hung between them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“There is always more.” His tone was quiet but final. He spoke with such authority but she didn’t really want to believe him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No there isn’t. There are people who don’t worry about the fate of the galaxy, there are people who are happy.” She felt desperate. She wanted this to be true so badly that she sounded almost frantic. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hux took her shoulders in his hands, grounding her, easing her mind. “Those people aren’t like you.” He made her look him in the eye, ducking so she couldn’t evade the directness of his gaze.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I fucking know that.” She ground out as he pulled away from him roughly. He just shook his head as he turned from her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No you don’t. You don’t understand what I’m trying to say. Those people are ignorant, selfish, lacking in introspection. They don’t care about the fate of the galaxy, that’s the problem. They have no higher purpose, no moral cause, they just go along to get along. It’s pathetic.” He spat. There was real anger behind his words that she couldn’t really understand.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well maybe I want to be pathetic.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He scoffed at that. “No you don’t. Stop with this nonsense. You’re better than this.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was her turn to be dismissive. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No I’m not.” She bit out. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He turned to her, eyes searching out hers. His expression was determined, deadly serious. She could see how he commanded ships full of troopers with such a gaze.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Listen, Rose, ignorance isn’t bliss, alright? It’s not. It’s living in misery and loneliness fighting for a cause you thought you believed in until you realize it never believed in you.” She felt the weight of his confession settle on her. Felt the reality of all that he had endured. It hurt but it helped in turn. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’d be so much happier if I didn’t care.” She insisted. She wasn’t really ready to learn her lesson just this minute. She distantly wondered if she would ever be ready.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He sighed deeply, sadly. “No you wouldn’t. It’s a horrible thing not to care.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I guess you would know.” She snapped, her tone terse with her useless petulance. It didn’t really register, she didn’t really think much about what she said until she saw the hunch in Hux’s shoulders, the silent resignation.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She moved close to him, resting a small hand across the expanse of his pale back. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m sorry that was cruel.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He chuckled bitterly. “It was, but it was accurate.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>For a moment they were silent, just sitting in the damp coldness of the abandoned structure that they had made their strange and temporary home. The only noise was their breathing and the sound of rain through leaves. It was ostensibly peaceful but it was destructive as well.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rose felt the weight of that destruction like his weight on her, like the heaviness she experienced when he drove into her on nights and days where all she wanted was to feel the pleasure he could bring. She never really thought about the pain that accompanied it. She never really contemplated the way it hurt as much as it titillated. The vulnerability he expected, that he created, was an agony she wasn’t ready to acknowledge but she felt it anyway. Like the peeling of skin it stung, it bled, and she was afraid it would scar and leave her changed forever. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Can I tell you something that might make you feel better?” Her voice was rough as it broke the silence, like broken glass on pavement. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He looked up at her, hopeful. “Sure.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His look, it was too open, too vulnerable. He was giving too much and she just didn’t want to take it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re a really good lay.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A shocked laugh sprang out from him, lighting up his face. “Force, Rose, are you ever serious?” He shook his head, disappointment behind the humor in his eyes. It made her feel like shit.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, yes, sometimes. I guess I used to be.” She stumbled through her words trying to remember if she had ever just sat with her emotions, if she ever expressed anything deeply or if she kept all her inner thoughts trapped behind a dam inside of her. She wondered if the dam would ever break. If she would let her jokes and quips fall far enough away that some of that </span>
  <em>
    <span>feeling</span>
  </em>
  <span> would come through. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hux looked at her, seemingly aware that there was more to her flippant compliment, more to her humor than she let on. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Is that really what you wanted to say. If it is, I’ll take it. It was one of the nicest things you ever said about me.” He moved closer to her, wrapping his long thin arm around her waist and pulling her close, like he meant to have her again, like he intended to make love to her, not just fuck her. She didn’t like that.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She shoved him, lightly and playfully but with intention. “Shut up, don’t act so desperate.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But I am.” He was so earnest, so damn sweet her tooth ached. She owed him more than her coldness, then her crass jokes. She owed him some honesty. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I like you. I like you a lot. Too much, even. All I ever want to do is hold you close.” She didn’t look at him, she couldn’t. She knew, she fucking knew, that he looked at her like she hung the stars and she couldn’t bear to tell him that all she saw when she looked at him was all the stars he tore down. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Then do it.” He begged, pleaded. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I can’t.” It was the truth. She hated herself. Hated that she found comfort in him. Hated that she wanted to hold him, that in all reality she could, but she was too scared to do anything of the kind. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why can’t you?” He phrased it like a question but he knew the answer. There were even some things he didn’t want to hear. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It hurts too much. Maybe someday. But it hurts too much right now.” It was cruel to give him hope but she couldn’t deal with the pain of the truth. She was too selfish to tell him that she would never hold him close, that from now on she would keep everyone at arm's length. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He swallowed, nodding slowly, before he turned back to her. “I don’t understand but I’ll give you time if you need it.” There was such kindness in his words, so much understanding. It was like a slap to her face, a rebuke of her cowardice. He was so brave in the face of her cruelty. He gave everything and she took it all so greedily never giving him an ounce back. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I need to go.” She got up quickly, frantically looking for her clothes, for an exit.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course.” His tone was dull, resigned. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She turned to him as she pulled in her trousers. She tried to sound remorseful, tried to sound like she wasn’t running away but she was sure he could hear the fear in her voice, “I’m sorry. See you soon?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He kissed her cheek as she buttoned her shirt, like he knew this was goodbye. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Rose played their conversation over and over in her head like it was a pop song she had lodged somewhere deep in her memory. It played to the beat of her heart like warbled vocals over the rhythm of synthesizer. It faded in and out, words swapped and forgotten but the meat of it still the same. It felt fitting. Weren’t all pop songs just superficial declarations of love? Empty meditations on heartache?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Your fight, Rose, I like your fight.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was laughable, a cosmic joke. What fight did he imagine? She had nothing left. She was just some empty shell, nothing of substance inside. What he liked was the idea of her, the person he thought she was. He liked someone who didn’t exist, who might not have ever existed at all. What he got was a tired little meat puppet who drifted along like leaves in the wind. This hollow version of herself was not something someone would like. It would be like saying your favorite food was oatmeal or unseasoned rice. It was like eating cotton candy and expecting it to fill you like a bantha steak. It was like staring at a lake and thinking you got wet. Loving her was like loving a promise of something more, a promise you knew could never be kept. What could he do with something like that?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Loving him was...something she wasn’t prepared to do. Loving him was forgetting all that proceeded. It was getting amnesia and pretending a First Order uniform didn’t hang in his closet. It was sticking your head in the sand and pretending that each grain was all the galaxy had to offer. She couldn’t do that. Every evil committed in his name was burned into her skin, a helix in her DNA. The trauma of every star system was her trauma, her pain. And sometimes, when the light was dim and he was no longer touching her skin she saw that some of that trauma was his as well.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>What could two broken things mean to each other? Didn’t someone need to be fixed, to be whole? What could he do for her? What could she do for him? And the same answer that kept popping up in her mind was: nothing. Nothing at all. They couldn't fix each other, couldn’t heal each other. He couldn’t call out to her in the darkness and she could not answer in the light. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It hurt to think about it. It hurt like a deep ache, like a spreading bruise. It hurt to know she was too far gone to be pulled from the well of her own pain. She was lost, floating like refuse through the empty cold of star systems she could not understand. Her pain was so consuming, swallowing her whole, a black hole where a star used to be.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There was something inside her that wanted to talk to someone, to find answers to questions she was afraid to ask. She wanted to talk to Finn of all people. She wanted to hear his voice, to feel his arms around her as he hugged her tight in the way only he could, to watch his eyes light up when she cracked a joke. Part of her loved him, part of her admired him, part of her couldn’t stand him. He abandoned her, abandoned their friendship for what? The Jedi? Rey barely looked at him, barely saw him past her own goals. It wasn’t her fault, she had bigger fish to fry and pathetic puppy love wasn’t worth her time. There were rumors that she had a thing for Kylo Ren. Rose supposed that could be the case. They were both sad in a similar way, both lost children looking for connection. It made sense. Sort of. Besides, Kylo did have, like, really good hair. It could really affect a woman if she was at all emotionally compromised. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Maybe Rey would have been a better person to talk to. She might understand what it meant to love a man who didn’t really deserve it. Maybe. But Rose had a suspicion that Rey didn’t really understand herself and could offer Rose little comfort. Besides she was off planet, somewhere in the galaxy that Rose could not access. And she didn’t really need Rose’s emotions on top of her own, didn’t need to be bothered with her baggage when the battles Rey faced were about the complexities of galaxies, of life, of legacy. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rose thought about talking to Kaydel but quickly shot that idea down. Though Kaydel would be patient and understanding of her feelings she would not be so accommodating when she found out where her emotion was directed. Kaydel was a good friend, a loyal one, but she was also fierce in her hatred for all the trappings of the First Order. Forgiveness of their crimes was not in the cards for Kaydel. Rose couldn’t blame her, she wasn’t wrong. But she needed someone who could put that aside for a minute and Kaydel couldn’t and Rose wouldn’t ask that of her. She had a right to hold on to her fury.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Paige would have got it. Paige would have set her straight, made her see how stupid she was being, made her find her courage and just fucking go for it. Paige would have laughed at her, would have told her she was a fool, would have told her to just get over all this nerfshit and do what made her happy. But what was happy? It was so distant a memory Rose forgot what it could even feel like. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Was she happy when they met in the wet forest in that damp room? Was she happy when he kissed her? Was she happy when she spread her legs for him? Was she happy when she let him taste her, let him drag his tongue along her cunt until tears spilled from her eyes and her breath caught in her throat? Was she happy when he bent her over the table and fucked her from behind, leaving gentle kisses along her spine? Was she happy that he was always so gentle, that he always acted like a boy who just wanted to be loved? Was she happy when he whispered in her ear that he thought she was beautiful, that she was a supernova bursting across the endless sky? Was she happy when she told him his smile made her heart break, that it was so lovely it made her want to run away with him? Was she happy when he laughed? Was she happy that she probably made him cry? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>All she knew is that she was warm in his regard, that she felt good when he proved, in little ways, that he cared about the galaxy around him. It felt like basking in the heat of a gentle sun. She felt a tingle in her toes when he laughed at something utterly ridiculous. Her chest felt too small for her heart when he brushed a bit of hair from his eyes. Her cheeks grew hot when he played with a curl that rested against the soft skin of her neck. Was this happiness? Was this joy? It felt too small, too insignificant to be an emotion like that but maybe that was what happiness felt like. She wouldn’t know. If only Paige was there to tell her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rose used to have dreams where she held her sister. It was always something small. They were supposed to meet at a market, they were saying hello after work, Paige was congratulating Rose for completing a particularly difficult project, something silly and innocuous. And in that dream her sister would pull her into her arms like she always did in waking life. And in that false reality Rose could feel the shocking force of it. She could feel the solid warmth of her, the way her arms wrapped firmly around Rose’s body. She could even smell her, the spicy sweet scent that she used to dab behind her ears. It was her only vanity and it always made Rose smile. It felt so real. So fucking real. And when she woke up she had a moment where she forgot that Paige was dead, that she couldn’t just go and hold her like she used to, and the cry that would erupt from her lips was so anguished that it hurt coming out.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tears fell from her eyes now, steady like rain on the planet she ran away to. It shocked her that she wanted Hux to be there. She wanted him to hold her close. She wanted him to comfort her, to tell her she could cry as long as she needed. She wanted him to push the thick strands of her hair away from her face so it would not catch in the damp of her tears. Was this love? Was this what it meant to need another person? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rose did not have time to contemplate it long before alarms sounded.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Chapter 9</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Finn told her what happened, told her that Hux had confessed to being a spy and helped them. Told her Hux said it was because he hated Ren, that he encouraged Finn to shoot him with a blaster. Finn told her that he heard that he was dead, shot by Pride when he discovered he was a mole. Finn had seemed surprised by her silence, by her sharp nod and quick exit. He would have been more surprised if he found her sobbing in some forgotten closet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She dreamt of holding him like she used to dream of Paige. She dreamt of his thin arms around her, keeping her warm in a damp chill. She felt his body shake with laughter as her arms squeezed him tight. She smelled that pine scent of him, breathed in the juniper and wet earth that clung to his skin. She woke the same way, forgetting he was gone. She wailed into her pillow, grief wrapping itself around her like vines on the forest floor. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The war was over, sooner than she thought. Sooner than anyone thought. It ended with a whimper not a bang. Rey destroyed Palpatine and the First Order scurried off, leaderless, broken. There were joyful exchanges, happy gatherings, the beauty of victory, the extravagance of peace. Everyone was jubilant, excited. Even though Leia was gone, even though there was pain underneath the happiness, they were loud with their excitement. Rose was too, for a bit, but her pain was too fresh to feel it for long. Everyone was so happy, so gleeful, and Rose was just quiet. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rose thought she was alone in this, alone in her misery but she saw that Rey seemed equally cowed, equally quiet. She smiled when she had to, laughed when it was required but it felt like everytime she did she had been jolted into action, shook from a stupor. Rose felt like she was looking in a mirror, a strange replication of herself. They weren’t friends, not in the normal sense of the word but part of her felt like she should reach out. So she did. Pain made her desperate, more so than usual. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rey was often alone, usually out by the blue lake where she meditated, floating eerily over the rock covered ground. Most people were afraid to approach her, afraid they would disturb some ancient Jedi magic. There was an aura around the woman that made people take a step back, made them give her more space than others. There was a reverence toward her like she was a god among mortals, a walking monument to some strange and unknown divinity. Rose felt it too, felt like she was something off limits, someone beyond the reach of a little Ottamak girl with a foul mouth. But she didn’t really care too much anymore. Who needed terrified reverence when the galaxy almost crumbled beneath their feet? Who needed to wrestle with a warped sense of self when grief was the only emotion that filled your weak body? Misery needs company, after all. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rose trudged toward the solitary Jedi, watching with naked curiosity as her body hovered over the mossy stones and rocks, little objects orbiting around her like heavenly bodies. The scene never felt normal, never felt routine, no matter how many times Rose witnessed it. Power like that was so strange to behold, so eerie in its silent presentation. Power, to Rose, always felt so loud, so obtrusive. Rey’s was nothing of the sort. Her gifts were soft and quiet, confident in the strength they exuded. It endeared her to Rose, made her something special. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>With a suddenness that made Rose start, Rey turned moments before she reached the rocky shore. Rose wondered if Rey had sensed her presence, sensed the tenor of her thoughts dangling between them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rey smiled, dimples creasing her cheeks. “I do.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well that answers my question.” Rose chuckled as she sat down by a nearby rock, watching as Rey floated back to solid ground. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know too much but you project some things loud enough and I can just </span>
  <em>
    <span>feel </span>
  </em>
  <span>them.” She waved her hands around like the gesture would clarify her point but Rose didn’t really get it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll pretend I understand what you mean.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rey laughed, a tinkling little sound like bells on a dancers feet. “Thanks.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They were silent for a while, unsure what to say. Rose was naturally awkward, anxious when faced with situations she did not quite understand. And Rey, well, solitude made her behaviors strange and she seemed to be far more content alone than in the company of others. It made sense but it hindered their conversation, made them stop and start like faulty wiring in a TIE fighter. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Some type of avian creature flew over head, flapping its large wings with gusto as he sped toward some unknown destination. They both looked up to watch it, eyes mapping its course. Rose wondered what it would be like to take flight, to scatter in the wind. It seemed peaceful, like floating through the cool expanse of an ocean.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rey broke the silence, her voice soft and smooth. The transition from quiet to speech, seamless. “Rose, have you ever been in love?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rose couldn’t help but laugh, some bitter and sad approximation of humor. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rey turned to look at her and Rose could not help but notice the sadness in her hazel eyes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“When did you figure it out?” She asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rose looked down at her hands, too afraid of what the Jedi might see behind her own eyes. “When it was too late.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rey nodded as if she understood but Rose knew she didn’t. How could she? How could anyone really know another’s pain. Even this magical creature couldn’t really feel it through the enormity of the Force.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How did you know that it was love? Real love?” There was a desperation in Rey’s voice that felt familiar. The uncertainty of an emotion so strongly felt.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rose sighed. “You just know.” Rey nodded, brow furrowed in confusion. Rose felt like she needed to say more to fill in the blanks her nebulous phrase left open. “I know its a fucking cliche answer but it’s unfortunatly accurate. Love is some amorphous blobby little thing that can't be constrained by language. It’s too weird and complicated to be put into words.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rey looked out over the lake squinting at the light that refracted off it’s smooth surface. For a beat, she was quiet, contemplative. When she came back it was with a whisper and a sad smile. “It’s alright. I figured as much.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did you love him?” Rose was so curious, they all were, really. Who could love the man behind the mask? Who could love a creature destroyed by his own hubris, by his own sense of entitlement? Rose knew it was possible but sometimes it felt like a fantasy. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rey was quiet for a time, wrestling with some internal problem that she seemed unable or unwilling to verbalize. Her mouth opened and closed like she was trying to speak but the words were trapped behind something logged in her throat. Finally she let loose, unable to contain the feelings inside. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know. I don’t know if I loved him or some fake version of him I created in my head. I know there were feelings there but I don’t think it was love. Not in the traditional sense.” She seemed lost, like a child in a market whose mother had wandered too far ahead. But here there were no kindly old women to direct her back to safety. The worst part about being an adult is there isn’t anyone to really save you from yourself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I doubt you could do anything in the traditional sense.” Rose nudged her a little, trying to make her smile. It worked. Dimples, like little craters, appeared on her cheeks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think you’re right.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Again they were quiet. Their conversation seemed to crest and fall like waves. But unlike before where the quiet felt awkward and sharp, now the silence was more comfortable, softer around the edges. It felt like old slippers on tired feet. Their halting speech was warm, almost friendly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Their avian acquaintance flew back over the lake, returning from whence he came. Rose watched, her own words returning with the bird. “Maybe you didn’t love him in the way people normally do. Maybe you loved what you thought he could become.” Rose spoke from some pit inside of her, expressing a thought that germinated in the fertile ground of her own selfish ruminations. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Loving a promise is a hard thing to do.” A stray tear fell down Rey’s rounded cheek. Rose pretended she didn’t see it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It is but it isn’t impossible.” Rose assured her, the well of her own experience giving her words form. Wasn’t she rather well versed in loving promises? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A fish jumped, breaking the placid surface of the lake like a rock shattering glass. Ripples danced across the surface, making tiny waves that lapped along the shore. How odd for one little thing to make such an impact. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you see him? Like one of those Force ghosts?” Rose asked, her curiosity making her brave. Talking about the Force always felt somewhat taboo.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rey shrugged noncommittally. “Not yet but I can feel him right along the edge. I’m sure I’ll see him soon.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I envy you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rey laughed, sadly, the expression never reaching her eyes. “Sometimes it's better when they are just gone. It's a different kind of pain to know he’s here but not really beside me.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rose shrugged. “I’d take anything. I’m pathetic like that.” She tried to smile, to make her words less...well, pathetic. It was an unconvincing lift of her lips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rey looked at her, like really looked at her. It was like being under an x-ray, everything was exposed. “You’re not pathetic. You’re human.” She said it with such feeling, such finality, Rose felt obligated to believe her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Isn’t that the same thing?” She joked. Rey missed the humor, too lost in her own convictions. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No. To be human is to love and to be loved. It means losing love too. It hurts but it makes things sweeter.” She smiled, this time it felt genuine. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bitter too.” Rose countered, tasting it in her mouth. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can’t taste the sweet if you never tasted the bitter. It never feels quite as good.” Rose felt Rey’s hand on her shoulder well before she rested it there, she felt the comfort before it was offered. Maybe it was a disturbance in the Force or just the knowledge that she truly cared in a way that was familiar to Rose. It felt a bit like Paige’s embrace in a fading dream.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“For someone who doesn’t know if she was in love you sure seem to have a lot of thoughts on it.” Rose bumped Rey’s shoulder a little with hers. The Jedi smiled, eyes warm and soft as she peaked over at her companion.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know love just not that kind. Love is blobby, remember?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rose laughed. “Look at you with your Jedi mind tricks. Flipped that one back on me, didn’t you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rey giggled. “It’s the first lesson at Jedi school: use your friend’s words against them.” Rose laughed again, feeling freer than she had in awhile, like she’d finally cut away vines that had grown over her feet. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are we friends?” Rose asked, tentative, a little nervous for Rey’s answer. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rey grinned wide, eyes sparkling with something that looked a lot like blobby love.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> “I think we are now.” </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Chapter 10</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Rose slept more now than she ever had before. She wondered if she was just catching up for lost time or if she just fell more easily than she used to. She was better at letting go. The little pills she got from the doctor helped too. Before long she was on a tight schedule. Alarms were set and bedtimes were obeyed with shocking regularity. She had a routine, a consistency she hadn’t experienced in an extraordinarily long time. Sometimes she had an afternoon caf just to get a little thrill.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She spent more time with Rey now. They would have lunch once a week and sometimes they’d sit by the lake and chat for hours. And sometimes they’d sit in companionable silence, watching the birds fly overhead and fish jump. The friendship that they had found together was startlingly deep, beautifully resonant in its intimacy. Poe had commented on it once, noting how quickly they took to each other. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Like fish to water</span>
  </em>
  <span>. They had looked at each other and shrugged. They couldn’t really argue with him, he was right. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rose was surprised by how much this new friendship had healed old wounds. It didn’t stop the hurt but it eased it, like bacta on a nasty cut. There were scars, certainly, but they didn’t sting like they used to. Rey wasn’t a replacement for Paige, wasn’t a replacement for Hux either, but she was </span>
  <em>
    <span>something</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Which was far better than nothing. On difficult nights when old wounds itched Rey was always there, hand extended, smile on her face. Tonight was no different. All they did was eat sweet treats and watch some silly little holodrama Kaydel had recommended. They made jokes about the ridiculous plot line and the not so skillful acting but didn’t say much else. They didn’t really need to. It was just nice not to be alone. Late into the night Rey made her excuses and they parted ways.</span>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Sleep tight, Rosie. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She called her Rosie now. Rose liked it. It sent a jolt of blobby love down her spine every time she heard it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rose was weary and warm, full of soft joy. She was all ready for bed, a large sleep shirt hanging from her shoulders and socks on her cold feet. She shuffled into her bedroom and eyed the green linens on her bed. She had made her home, the little apartment allotted to her on the new base, as green as she possibly could. Every shade of it graced small corners of her space making it resemble a canopy of leaves. Other touches were placed elsewhere. Grey, blue and brown made homes on her nightstands and in her rugs. A pillow there, a throw blanket here. It wasn’t until a month in did she realize it was like the little planet she had run away to, all sharp rocks and dark forest. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She settled into bed and felt the cold creep of grief begin to push at her edges. She felt it the sharpest before bed, when she was just about ready to fall into oblivion. Sometimes she gave in, sometimes she stayed strong. She wasn’t sure what would happen tonight but she just lay still, listening to the sound of her own breathing and the light whurr of her fan as it pushed a breeze through her still room. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A shrill ping woke her. She couldn’t tell if it had been minutes or hours since she fell asleep but she was wide awake now. She lay in bed for a bit, debating on whether to get up and investigate or pray that sleep would take her again. She decided on the latter. Another ping sounded squashing her best laid plans.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She got up, slowly, moving haltingly like a rusty AT-AT. Her holopad sat on top of her dresser, screen suspiciously black. She unlocked it, searching for the tell tale little red icon that alerted her to new communiques. There was no such indication. She stared down at the screen, her brows knitted together in confusion. Did she dream up the pings? Was she going crazy? Was this some stupid prank? Another ping sounded, slightly muffled by the closed drawer of her dresser.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rose froze. Her heart began to beat a rapid staccato. Slowly, with shaking hands she pulled open the top drawer of her dresser and peered inside. Pairs of underwear and breast bands were thrown haphazardly into the gaping maw of the darkened drawer. She pushed aside the soft fabric, digging like a mole through dirt until she uncovered her treasure. The holopad she had used to communicate with Hux sat, staring up at her. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Ping</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Two messages lit up the screen. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I have a question.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Do you think you could answer it?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She bit the inside of her cheek until it bled. She had to make sure she was awake. She couldn’t tell if this felt like a nightmare or a dream. Maybe a little bit of both. She was talking to a ghost after all. Tears fell onto the screen as her shaking fingers flew over the keys. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>What’s with you and questions?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A beat. Another ping sounded in the dark. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I’ve missed you, Rose. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A sob escapes her throat and she felt as if she would break apart like a planet in its last moments, shards of rock spinning through space. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>That’s not a question. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>How easily she fell into old patterns. It was so natural and yet so surreal. It felt like flying. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Fine. You never change. Will you meet me?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She was speaking to a ghost, surely. Some strange apparition that had figured out how to...type? She didn’t really know. It wasn’t how it was supposed to be. People didn’t just die and turn up months later to send silly messages on ancient holopads. But Rose loved to love hope and, fucking hell, she was so hopeful. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Same place?</span>
  </em>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>A beat. Barely a breath was exchanged before a reply popped up on the screen. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Same place.</span>
  </em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Chapter 11</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It was an eerily beautiful place. The green cliffs overlooked a rocky sea, the deep blue of it like sapphires and the white foam like creamy pearls rolling to shore. In the distance a tempest brewed, dark angry clouds moving closer and closer at a glacial pace, releasing their contents into the waiting maw of the jeweled ocean. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rose had seen it all a million times before. She dreamed of it often enough. She lived in the memory of it when life felt too much to bear. Her soul felt entwined with the vines and leaves. It was like a string was tied to her heart and when it was pulled it yanked her back to these rocks, these trees, this rolling ocean. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>For a moment Rose felt the weight of her solitude, felt it heavy on her shoulders and chest. Her lips parted as she breathed in the iciness of the air, sucking it greedily into her lungs. She tasted the juniper, the pine, the salt, the hope on her tongue. It was bittersweet like dark chocolate. She always liked dark chocolate.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She walked along the green path that led to the forest, hands shaking, heart racing, doubt and anticipation taking turns piloting her emotions. She didn’t really know what to think about the situation she found herself in. She didn’t know if this was all a trap, some kind of elaborate ruse to lure her out here and...kill her? Maim her? Get her to confess to some kind of crime, perhaps? She couldn’t really come up with a good motive but she did think that perhaps this was all some elaborate prank. Dreams didn’t manifest into reality. People didn’t just come back from the dead no matter how much you wished it to happen. They just didn’t.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rose walked swiftly through the density of trees, not caring that wayward branches scratched at the skin exposed along her arms. What were scratches and scabs compared to the elation of hope? Her short legs made giant strides along the trail she knew like the back of her hand. She passed the babbling stream, passed the sharp rocks, passed the rotting log and hidden animal dens that felt as familiar to her as her own home.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span> In the distance, through mist and leaves, she could see the hazy outline of the little structure she had stepped into a dozen times in her waking life and a thousand in her sleep. It looked different then she remembered, cleaner, more like an actual shelter than a ruin. There were patches in the roof, a fresh coat of white paint on the walls. There was a door, painted green, in the edifice of the stone wall. Someone had made a home here, a permanent one. The thought made Rose’s breath catch.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She practically ran up to the shelter, she supposed it was more of a cottage now. She stood in front of the closed green door, breath heaving, tears stinging her nose. She stared at a bubble in the paint puffing up in the center of the door. The rusty latch had tiny splashes of green on the sides like someone had tried to be careful but didn’t quite manage it. So many thoughts swirled through her head but her eyes were stuck on the little imperfections of an emerald green door. Who had painted it? Why go to all that trouble? What was it all for? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her trembling hand reached for the knob well before she had pulled herself together. Well before she was even ready to face what lay on the other side but she didn’t really care. It was now or never, right?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rose didn’t know what she expected but it wasn’t this. She didn’t expect a rickety kitchen table. She didn’t expect a tidy little cot. She didn’t expect pots and pans hanging on the wall. Was that a cat sleeping in the scant sunlight? What kind of quaint little hermit took up residence here? Surely it was not the man sitting at the table, ginger beard on his face, hair long and unkempt. Surely it was some fairy prince or an Ewok colony she was unaware of. It couldn’t be Hux. It just couldn’t.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Rose.” His voice was all it took. The soft rasp of it, the way it curled around the letters of her name like smoke. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You fucking asshole.” She wailed, tears streaming down her face in rapid succession. She never really understood the phrase ‘burst into tears’ but she got it now. She burst like a leaky pipe. Hux stood suddenly, and walked over to her, gait unsteady. </span>
  <em>
    <span>That blaster shot must have never healed</span>
  </em>
  <span>, she thought distantly as she flung herself into his arms. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You fucking asshole. I can’t believe you. You fucking asshole.” She was a bit incoherent, her voice cloudy with tears, her thoughts scattered in the wind. All she could think about was the way his arms felt around her, the pine smell of him, the gentle shake of his body as he laughed, </span>
  <em>
    <span>fucking laughed</span>
  </em>
  <span>. How many times had she dreamed this? How many times had she woken from this beautiful fantasy to the cold sting of reality? How many times had she sobbed into the night air desperate for this very thing? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I missed you.” Such a simple phrase, three words, nothing more, but it felt an awful lot like a declaration. He missed her, he thought of her, he missed the way she told him he was a </span>
  <em>
    <span>fucking asshole</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Who did that? What kind of maniac missed that? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I missed you too, you piece of shit. Fuck, I love you.” She sobbed as he brushed tears away from her face. She wiped her nose, stopping the stream of snot that was beginning to fall. What a pretty picture she must have made.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He chuckled. He seemed unable to wipe the stupid grin off his face. She thought that perhaps his face would shatter with the force of it. Was that joy? Was this what happiness looked like? Whatever it was, it suited him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That was probably the worst declaration of love I’ve ever heard.” His hands framed her face, thumbs catching stray tears as they sprung from her eyes. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She shoved him a little. A reprimand that she didn’t really mean. “That’s the only declaration of love you’ve ever heard, jackass.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s ‘Insufferable Motherfucker’ to you.” He wagged his finger like a frustrated teacher talking to a particularly disrespectful student. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Maker! I take it back. I actually hate you. I hate your fucking guts.” She groaned as a small bubble of laughter escaped her. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Now that’s my Rose.” His grin was so bright it could have rivaled any sun in any galaxy. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re really here, aren’t you?” They hadn’t stopped touching but Rose reached out to pull him closer, fingers wrapping around the rough wool of his dark green sweater. He let her, following her lead like a dance only they knew the steps to. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“In the flesh,” he said around a smile. “Miracle of miracles I weaseled my way out of the grips of Death and slithered back here to wait for you like a bloody fool.” She rolled her eyes but couldn’t contain her joy. Any attempt to soften her happiness withered in the face of it. She couldn’t hide how she felt any longer.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I should have known you’d be slippery. You’re such a slimy little fuck.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He threw his head back and laughed. It was a sound sweeter than music and she couldn’t wait to hear it again. “Oh that’s a new one. You’re so creative. One of the many things I love about you.”</span>
  <em>
    <span> Love. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He loved her. He loved </span>
  <em>
    <span>many </span>
  </em>
  <span>things about her. She had many things to love. That used to be a question not a statement. She used to be unsure, a child on shaky legs. She walked a little stronger now save for the occasional stumble. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You love me?” She just wanted a little clarification. She wanted to let him know she was ready to hear it too. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He leaned in close, forehead resting on her’s. “Come on Rose, don’t be stupid. Of course I do.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She wanted to jump up and down with excitement. She wanted to wiggle a little dance but she wasn’t that woman yet. Maybe one day she would be that woman but today she still was Rose who deflected intimacy with a joke. So she did what she did best: deflected.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well you have a fucking funny way of showing it. You’ve been ‘dead’ for fucking months and now you decide to make yourself known.” She pushed him away just a little so he had to look her in the eye. His smile faltered but he didn’t seem mad. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I had to make sure it was safe. I wanted to reach out, trust me. It was just not prudent to do it right away.” It sounded logical but Rose wasn’t thinking logically, she was all emotion. The days, weeks, and months of her grief mounted and she couldn’t release the pain just yet.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You could have sent me something.” Her voice was quaking on the verge of tears once again. Her pain was still so fresh, dulled sure, but still lurking under the surface.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you kidding? And have you come barreling through the galaxy to find me here. Maker, you’re a stubborn woman. I couldn’t risk that.” He captured a stray tear on the tip of his thumb as he moved in, head tilted ready to capture her lips if she would just let him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fuck, I missed you so much.” She whispered as she gave into the temptation to touch, to hold him close like she always promised herself she wouldn’t. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The dam inside of her broke, flooding her heart with every emotion she held back. The way she held him wasn’t like the frantic lust of the past. She didn’t claw. She didn’t bite. She fused. She pushed herself against him, pressed her body against the length of his. She felt the hard jutting edges of his bones, the soft give of his stomach, the firm line of his muscles, all of it. It became part of her, part of her own jutting bones, her own soft giving body, her own firm muscle. Deep in her soul she felt the blobby love, felt the amorphous strange little thing take root around her heart. It was here to stay. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hux moved them, slowly, haltingly, until they reached the cot. He sat first, giving her the advantage, demonstrating his vulnerability. He was under her, under her weight, under the spell of her love. Stripped of his titles, his arrogance, his clothes, he was just a man. His porcelain skin was delicate, constellations of freckles dotted the plains of his shoulder, the soft peaks and valleys of his clavicle bone. The mottled scar on his leg served as a reminder of what he had sacrificed for a chance at forgiveness. He was humbled, he would continue to be humbled all his life. She would be humble beside him. She would forgo pride for forgiveness. Forgiveness felt better in the end. It made better company.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span> Slowly, carefully, sensually, she joined him, naked as the day she came. She straddled his hips. Kissed him for long stretches of time, delicate, careful. She fed him bits of herself through the movement of her lips. She gave him her heart this way, piece by piece. She showed him that she wasn’t afraid to hold him close. She looked down at his adoration instead of looking away. She didn’t know if she deserved all of it but she wasn’t afraid to let him show her the depth of his feelings. She hoped that he saw hers. Hoped that he could feel it through the heat of her skin, the gentleness of her touch. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rose wanted more, she wanted to feel the stretch of him again, wanted to feel the pleasure of his giving body. He sensed it, moving his hands along her heated skin with shaking reverence, with bruising need. She was always the one who had clawed, who had fought. Now it was his turn to show his desperation, his turn to lose all control. He brought her down, dragged her dripping core along the hard ridge of his cock. Tiny sparks, like bubbles in a fizzy drink, scattered across the surface of Rose’s skin. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hux,” she gasped, eyes rolling back in pleasure. He kissed along her exposed neck, the space behind her ear, his hand buried in her hair. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s not my name anymore,” he moaned gruffly into her skin. Her eyes opened, half-lidded, a question in the brown depths of them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hux is dead.” He said between gritted teeth as she twisted a bit in his arms, dragging herself along him again. She felt wicked, evil, cruel in the way she wanted him to beg for her love. She knew she would give it without hesitation but the power she had over him was as intoxicating as it was frightening. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Then who are you?” She asked against his parted lips.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m Armitage.” He replied as she pressed a kiss against his throat, feeling his name as he spoke it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fancy.” She could feel the small huff of laughter that escaped his lips replaced quickly by a groan as she moved faster against him. The slide of his hard cock pleasant against her soaking cunt. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Will you say it?” He asked, desperation clouding his voice. Oh, how she adored the way he needed her. Oh, how she needed him with equal desperation.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Armitage.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She sank down on him, one smooth motion, watching, enraptured by the way his eyes fluttered close and his breath left him on an elongated moan.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rose never really knew she could feel this complete. She never knew her own heart could be like a machine with a missing part. Sure, it chugged along fine all on its own but it beat better with Armitage by her side. She felt like a finished painting that was enhanced by a small offhand stroke of the brush. She was given more depth, a shadow she didn’t know she really needed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Armitage moved like a wave beneath her, arms draped around her waist, hands holding her with soft reverence. It felt so good to be with him, to feel him inside her and all around her. He reached the depths of her, reached the parts of her that were hard to find. He tasted the salty flavor of her skin along her neck as he whispered filthy kindnesses into the drum of her pulse. He told her all manner of things. He told her how he missed her, how beautiful she was, how strong, how vital, how fucking delicious her cunt felt. She answered back with broken moans and shattered gasps of </span>
  <em>
    <span>more</span>
  </em>
  <span>, and </span>
  <em>
    <span>please</span>
  </em>
  <span>, and </span>
  <em>
    <span>my love</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>With clever fingers Armitage brought her to the edge of ruin. He tipped her over the cliff, eager for her to fall. All the while he held her close with his free arm, locked in an intense embrace. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Let go, Rose. I’m here.” He whispered to her as her hips stuttered and her eyes screwed shut in pleasure. </span>
  <em>
    <span>He’s here,</span>
  </em>
  <span> was the only thought in her head as she crashed into her release, breaking apart and falling back together like a supernova in an endless sky. Fractures of warm light traveled through her, through him. Forgotten stars were born again, remade in their image. His name welled up from the place beside her heart and escaped her lips on a breath. He answered with a call of his own, lips parted around the sound of her name. It never sounded sweeter.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They fell back onto his bed, a giggle espacing Rose’s lips as she smacked into the hard plane of Armitage’s chest. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Smooth.” She said as she settled in beside him on the narrow bed. He pushed strands of hair from her face as he smiled down at her. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t know how I was supposed to do that gracefully.” He chuckled. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fair enough.” She replied distantly as she watched the ginger cat lift her little head to investigate the sweaty stranger in bed beside her person. Slowly, the graceful feline rose from her spot and trotted over to the bed, large belly swinging. She gave Rose’s outstretched hand an experimental sniff before she shoved her fuzzy face into her hand. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“She likes you.” Armitage commented as his gaze followed the lazy stroke of Rose’s hand through the soft fur around the cat’s ears. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What’s her name?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Millicent.” The cat perked up at the sound of her name, ears twitching as she basked in the onslaught of attention.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s a good name. I like old lady names.” Hux grinned at Rose’s declaration, leaning in to give her a soft kiss on the lips. She loved the feel of this casual affection, this absentminded tenderness. She would swallow it whole like a sweet pistachio macaron, or a dumpling drowned in a spicy broth. His love was like comfort food, filling up places that once were hollow. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Millicent’s eyes closed in feline bliss as Rose scratched under her proffered chin. Rose thought it would be nice to have a cat. She always liked them. She enjoyed their cool independence and gentle displays of affection. Reminded her a bit of herself if she was honest. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t know if they allow pets on the base but I could talk to Poe about her. I bet he’d concede.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Or we could just stay here.” Armitage replied as he kissed her neck, trying to distract her from her train of thought. As pleasant as it was she was not so easily distracted.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m not staying here.” She replied as she sat back and away from Millicent who meowed in disapproval. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why not?” He looked so earnest, so sad at her declaration that she reached out to stroke his hair like she had just done for his cat not a second before. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I have friends on the base, family.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span> She of course had entertained the idea of just wasting her life away with him on this beautiful planet but the thought of leaving Rey behind made her stomach twist. As much as she loved him, and she loved him so damn much, she loved Rey in equal measure. She loved Poe, Finn, and Kaydel too. To be pulled from their embrace would be something akin to violence. It would hurt like a bruise, an ache deep under her skin. His love, as  strong and as beautiful as it was, wouldn’t be enough. No one’s love could be enough. It took a village. She needed pieces of tenderness to feel whole like a puzzle that fit together to make the shape of her heart.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I could be your family.” He insisted, though it was futile. He was only a fragment of family, only the shiniest piece in the mosaic, only a jewel in her crown. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No offense. But you’re not enough.” She watched as a ripple of pain flashed across the planes of his face. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Saying ‘no offense’ doesn’t soften the blow, Rose.” He groused. She hated herself for being so blunt, so unused to turning her emotions into words but she had to walk before she could run.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She reached for him, pulling him from the depths of his own self pity. He turned to her like a flower toward the sun, eager for her touch.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span> “I fucked it up. What I meant to say is: your love is good, it’s great actually, but all my love doesn’t belong to you.” He softened at her words, pulling her close so their noses brushed. Her eyes crossed as she tried to hold his gaze.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Who does it belong to?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Rey, Kaydel, Finn, Poe. They all are part of me. They all give me the love I need. It’s not the same kind of love but it’s love. I need that love too. You need that love.” She kissed him then, slow and sweet, pouring all she could not put into words into the press of her lips against his. He took it, greedily but parted from her too quickly, eyes still uncertain. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do I?” He asked like a child who wanted to weasel their way out of going to school. She smiled at that. There was a lack of sincerity in his tone that made her think he understood, somewhere deep down he felt it too or at least he trusted her enough to take her guidance to heart. Whatever it was she appreciated it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, you do,” she insisted, wrapping her arms around him as she slid under the warmth of his body. He smiled at that, ready to share in the intimacy of their embrace, to fall back into pleasure with not a thought in his pretty little head. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well you know what’s good for me. I suppose I have to listen.” She laughed at the way he so easily acquiesced to her, at the way he nuzzled against the skin of her neck and pressed kisses against her skin. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“When did you become so accommodating?” Rose asked as Armitage nibbled at her shoulder, hands mapping out the mountains and valleys of her soft body. She traced the constellations of his freckles across the pale sky of his chest, connecting dots like a child’s game. He smiled at her soft touch, pleased by the way she showed him she loved him, showed him that she cared. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Only for you.” He whispered, taking her face in his hands. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Only for me.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And Rose smiled so big she thought her face might split right in half. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>That’s all folks! Thank you for sticking with this one! It is near and dear to my heart and it warms my cold dead heart to see see how much people have responded to this one. </p>
<p>If you think I’m funny and want to hear my many dumb thoughts follow me on Twitter @friendofdimpy If you have any prompts/ideas/commissions shoot them my way there!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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